


Pakikīrehe

by ThatOneWritingPerson



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabbles, Fluff, Junkers - Freeform, Pre-Overwatch, Short Stories, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, roadrat - Freeform, short-time death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:03:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8309536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneWritingPerson/pseuds/ThatOneWritingPerson
Summary: Pakikīrehe - fable - a short moral story.A collection of drabbles, most of them will be centered around Roadhog (and Junkrat).(second story has implied Roadrat, though could also be considered platonic relationship. Also: trans-Junkrat.)





	1. Chapter 1

Wrong place, wrong time.  
  
Junkrat had assumed that Gibraltar was an excellent location to lay low and take a break. Usually, it was swarming with tourists this time of the year, and if things went awry, they could either go up north – to Spain and beyond– or try and cross the Strait of Gibraltar in order to hide somewhere in Ceuta. They never got the time to flee, though. Heck, they hardly got a moment to rest. Within twenty four hours, he and his heavyset bodyguard had been spotted and attacked by some rotten team of goody-two-shoes.  
  
They had tried their hardest to fight back and make a run for it. Almost won the battle, too.  
But then, suddenly –  
  
Wrong place, wrong time.  
  
One of these self-proclaimed heroes, a swiftly moving girl with short, dark hair and a yellow outfit, had been taunting Roadhog for some time. He had waited for the right moment to throw his chain hook towards her, hoping to reel her in and blast that smug little grin off of her face. In the meantime, Junkrat was busy repairing his damaged RIP-tire as fast as he could. He’d be able to rev it up and cause a whole lot of damage in no time. Just a minute. That was all it would take.  
  
He heard the chain of Roadhog’s hook as he finally threw it in the girl’s direction.  
  
He heard a cry above them. Saw a person donning blue armor hovering in the air.  
  
Saw rockets raining down.  
  
They were done for. With Roadhog’s chain occupied and his RIP-tire out of business, there was little for Junkrat to do but to duck for cover. He felt the heat of his bodyguard’s broad torso on his back and heard explosions all around them before his ears started to ring.  
Soon after, all was silent. Most of his hearing was gone, probably. Most certainly. And so was the warmth that had covered him. It had moved sideways, along with the body it radiated from.  
  
A body that laid still. Too still.  
  
“Roadhog?”  
  
He could hardly hear his own voice, let alone a potential grunt coming from the man next to him. Carefully, he put a hand on the larger man’s shoulder.  
  
“Oi, Roadie. Get up.”  
  
Soft nudges soon changed into frantic pushes. The bodyguard didn’t respond to it at all, and this made the charger panic. Their attackers got closer, he could feel their eyes on them, and he made a lousy attempt to scare them away by growling. Truth be told, Roadhog had always appeared much more threatening when he did the growling. Junkrat, on the other hand, looked more like a cornered chihuahua. He knew that. Made him grow even more anxious.  
  
A grey haired man, wearing some sort of visor, stepped forward.  
“Drop your weapons and –“ he started, only to be interrupted by the Junker’s shrill voice.  
“Can’t ya see I’m busy?” he screeched at the man, before turning back to the lifeless body. “Damnit, ya big lug, get up!”  
  
More pushing, pulling and yelling ensued. Their attackers kept their distance as they watched the scene. After a couple more minutes, Junkrat decided to face the facts. It was over. The journey they had made and the havoc they had caused – it was all over. And the worst of all was that he had ended up all alone. His bodyguard – no, his friend – was gone. Dead. Nothing to do about it. No way to turn back time. He held the big man’s face in his thin hands. Caressed his mask. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not in Junkrat’s mind. No, if anyone would’ve asked for his view upon their future, he’d say they were immortal. Invincible. Death simply wasn’t a part of their story.  
  
But it was. And it had taken the Junker by surprise.  
  
There was a presence right behind him. He glanced over to a woman, dressed like an angel. If he hadn’t seen her on the battlefield before, he would’ve thought she had come to take Roadhog away from him.  
  
“I have a proposition,” she spoke with an accent unfamiliar to him. “I can resurrect your partner, if you wish.”  
“Resurrect him? Like, bring him back to life? Off course I’d want that! But why would you help me? I thought you wanted us dead.”  
“I ask for something in return: I want you to become a part of our team. You’ll be working under the command of Soldier: 76.”  
She gestured to the grey haired man.  
“Why?” Junkrat muttered.  
“Because I see potential in you.”  
“Aren’t you worried that I might betray the lot of you?”  
“I can grant life, but I can also take it.”  
“One wrong move and Roadie will reach his final destination, eh?”  
“Exactly.”  
  
Junkrat looked back at the corpse of his friend. He had little choice if he wanted to see him alive, ever again. Sure, he’d have to be loyal to this damned organization, but how bad could it be? Heck, he could consider this another attempt at going legit.  
  
“Get ‘im back on his feet, already, before I change my mind,” he mumbled.  
  
The woman took a few more steps forward and Junkrat stared at how she resurrected his partner. The big man stirred and coughed as he took a new breath of life.  
“We’ll give you a few minutes to explain the situation and adjust yourselves to it,” she spoke. “A resurrection can be quite confusing and stressful.”  
  
They turned their backs on the two Australians. The younger Junker took the opportunity to hug his startled friend, before briefly telling him what had happened.  
  
“So I guess this is it. I’m theirs, now. Kind of sold my soul to the angel in exchange for your life. At least it’s better than selling my soul to the devil, innit?” he said, ending his story.  
“What do you mean, ‘this is it’?” the other man grumbled.  
“I’m the one who struck a deal, not you. You’re free to go, big guy. ‘ere, let me write down all you need to get to my – I mean _our_ treasure. Not like I’ll be needing it any more.”  
  
Roadhog stopped him before he could even put the tip of his old stub of a pencil on a scrap of paper.  
  
“No.”  
“What?”  
  
The man stood up, stretched his back and held out his hand.  
  
“I’m with you.”

 


	2. Puipuiaki (Treasure)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble about slightly-domestic-Junker-life.  
> Mako's got a present for Jamison.

Who would’ve thought that years after their escape from Australia, they’d stop being on the run? It still amazed Roadhog – no, Mako – really. He’d always thought of their crime spree as unforgivabe. A reason for the world to publicly execute both him and his partner. But there was a twist of fate, caused by a fight with the Heroes of Overwatch which resulted in Junkrat devoting his life to the organisation, to get Mako’s resurrection is exchange. At that very moment in time, the younger Junker had given him the chance to move on. Heck, ‘Rat had offered him the entire treasure on top of it, since Mako had been taking excellent care of him and he’d be in a place where he wouldn’t need said treasure, anyway.

But Mako had stayed with his partner in crime. Why? He hadn’t got a single clue. It just felt right. This was good. And in the end, after spending a good amount of time fighting for the world rather than against it, it had all payed off. World leaders no longer wanted to see them prosecuted. They were forgiven. They had somehow proven to be able to change for the better.

Nowadays, they’d spend their time off in a small apartment in London. It was just big enough for the both of them. Take-out restaurants and grocery stores within walking distance. Lena and Emily living nearby. Yes, life was good. It brought out the best in Jamison and him.  
And most important of all, it brought back Mako.

They had been living a simple life for the last couple of years. Sure, they had their occasional mission, but otherwise it got… Normal. Which was nice, off course. Mako liked normal. Especially after all the chaos his alter ego had caused. But today was special, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t make it extra special.

First, he had taken his partner out for lunch. Now, that was still fairly boring, truth be told. After that, they visited the London Dungeon. Jamison had absolutely loved the shows. Most certainly enjoyed the one about Guy Fawkes. The actors, on the other hand, had pretty sure been bored to death by ‘Rat’s constant bragging about how he and the historic figure were related, if it weren’t for Mako pulling him along after the show. A little more sightseeing, reminiscing old times and crown jewels and a nice dinner later, the two of them went back to the apartment.  
  
“This was a pretty good day,” Jamie muttered as he plopped down on the couch. “Should do this stuff more often. See more of the city. Remember how we used to travel the world, 'Hog?”  
“Mako.”  
“Oh, right. Right. Mako. Sorry, old habits die hard. That Guy Fawkes show was great, wasn’t it? I loved it, with all the gunpowder and blowing up the parliament and -”  
  
The older Junker sighed as his partner went on and on about every single detail of the dungeon. He walked over to the cabinet and opened a drawer to pull out what’s supposed to be the ‘Grand finale’ of their day. This was it. The big moment.  
  
“I’ve got somethin’ for ya,” he grunted.  
  
Jamison stopped talking mid-sentence. Good. At least he was paying attention to him, now. Mako handed the other man an envelope.  
“What’s this?”  
“Just open it.”  
  
‘Rat pulled out the card that Mako had bought for him the day before. Big, blue letters read ‘It’s a boy!’ on the front. He had signed the card with a short and simple ‘congratulations, you bastard.’.  
Jamie stared at it for a while. Turned it over. Looked at the front, again.  
  
“Did we have a baby or something?” he suddenly asked. “Because if we did, I kinda sorta forgot about it.”  
“Nope.”  
“Thank God. Started to doubt my memory for a moment. But what’s with the card?”  
  
Mako couldn’t help but grin as he handed him a package and watched him tear off the wrapping. When it came to presents, Jamie’s patience was nonexistant. Wild eyes glanced over the gift itself: a black picture frame holding what Mako assumed would become Jamison’s most prized possession.  
  
“I-Is this genuine?” ‘Rat stuttered. “This- this isn’t some kind of joke, right?”  
“It’s real, Jamie.”  
“Not a counterfeit?”  
“One hundred percent legal. Came in yesterday.”  
  
Tears welled up in Jamison’s eyes as he held up the frame to look at the document from another angle. A gender recognition certificate. _His_ gender recognition certificate.  
  
“It’s finally here,” he whimpered. “You know, even though I’ve always been a guy, it’s still nice to see it in black on white. It’s on paper, now. It’s –“  
“The icing on the cake?”  
“God, I love icing.”  
  
They smiled to one another. Mako pulled the other man in for a hug. He deserved it. It was sort of a special day, after all.  
  
“You and your stupid card,” he heard ‘Rat mumble. “Got me worried for a second. I love ya.”  
“Love ya, too, ‘Rat.”  
“Jamison.”  
“Right. Jamison.”


End file.
